


Exploration and other bad relationship advice

by Hallene



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Arguments, Confessions, Drama queen Crowley and wtf are emotions aziraphale, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff tho in the end, Lot's of fluff, Love Confessions, Pre-Relationship, Rating May Change, South Downs Cottage, fucking TALK to each other ya twats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hallene/pseuds/Hallene
Summary: Aziraphale feels it's time to move their relationship forward. Crowley has resentments about all the times he couldn't. Rating may change!
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Exploration and other bad relationship advice

He had everything set up the way he had imagined it for decades. A blanket, red and white checked. On the blanket, a twine basket Aziraphale found in a secondhand shop ten years ago. The location of the picnic was a sprawling field of sunflowers that reached tall towards the sky. It was perfect weather; Somebody had made sure of it.

Aziraphale had even taken the opportunity to shed his usual outfit. After all, it was the season for changes. The season for averting the end of the world and the season for finally leaving behind every insecurity he had so carefully cultivated over the course of his existence. He was doing it all for Crowley. Oh, he had kept that wonderful demon waiting far too long. The blanket, basket, and carefully selected bottle of wine were all sitting on top of a small grassy hill overlooking the sunflower fields. Mrs. Dowling had told Aziraphale about this location five years ago. It had apparently been the location of a very romantic date between her husband and herself. Before his politician work drove a wedge between them. Human relationships were very fragile, Aziraphale reminded himself.

Aziraphale, however, was practically beside himself with joy as he snapped his fingers, leaving behind his carefully constructed picnic and appearing back in his homely bookshop. The shop was a comfort as it had always been. However, it was not a comfort that Aziraphale cared to keep in his life for much longer. That is if today went as planned. Books were packed carefully in boxes; clothes were nearly stored in suitcases. Bottles of wine, delicate scrolls, and other various trinkets were already en route to their destination.

All that was left was Crowley.

Aziraphale rubbed his hands against his short nervously, still not quite used to the feeling of his legs being exposed to the open air. Khaki shorts, a button-up shirt, and a bowtie were hardly a far cry from his normal ensemble. His regular tailor had all but pounced at the opportunity to create him a more modern outfit when Aziraphale had attentively brought it up a few weeks ago. However, it was the shift in mindset that mattered. The mindset that things could change. And those changes could be good. While he was lost in thought, the shop's phone was suddenly in his hands and the number was dialed before Aziraphale really even know what he was doing. He snapped back to his senses on the second ring.

_**‘This is Anthony Jay Crowley, you know what to do. Do it with style.’** _

“Crowley, my dear. It’s me. I mean to say- It’s Aziraphale. Um, hello. I’m not sure if you’re there or not. I’m never sure which number you want me to call. You have several and I never know if I am getting your mobile or not- “

_“For Fuck’s sake, Angel_. How many times have I told you not to ramble on my answering machine? You stress her out.” Aziraphale allowed himself a relieved breath and a soft smile.

“Ah, I am so glad I caught you. Your answering machine is female?”

“Last she told me. What’s up?”

Angels don’t sweat. But Aziraphale had a nasty habit of fidgeting as if he did. His free palm busied himself with the newfound buttons on his shirt. He thought idly that they would take some getting used to. Crowley had asked him a question. _What was the question? ‘What’s up’? What did that mean again…?_

“What’s up?”

“It means, _‘why are you interrupting my Sunday Gossip Girl marathon’_? You know I don’t like to press pause. Ruins the comedic timing.”

Aziraphale did remember, as he has been so painfully reminded several hundred times.

“Ah. Quite. Well, I was hoping you would be available today. Around sunset. For dinner. Today. Today’s evening.”

“Yeah, I know when sunset is, Angel. I suppose I could pencil you in. The Ritz?”

“Actually,” Aziraphale spoke a bit too loudly and made a mental note to rein it in. “I have a different location in mind. Perhaps if you drive, I could give you directions. And it could be a surprise.” Aziraphale fought off the very human urge to clear his throat in discomfort.

_“You’re ruining my retirement, Angel.”_ Crowley groaned halfheartedly, but Aziraphale knew he would say yes anyway.

“Let’s say around seven?”

“Seven.” Crowley agreed.

The afternoon came and went and Aziraphale checked on the picnic spot several times in the span of that eight hours. In fact, he was feeling rather drained of energy by all the miracles he was utilizing to constantly pop over. Seven-o-clock crept upon him slowly but not slow enough. He was just about to double-check his outfit for the fifty-eighth time when he heard the unmistakable sound of the Bentley pull up the curb just outside.

This was it.

Aziraphale straightened his bowtie just once more before he grabbed the small black box and shoved it into the pocket of his shorts.

_This was it…_

* * *

“So, I was going to ask, and then I wasn’t. And I have just now decided that I am going to ask. What’s with the outfit change?” Crowley barreled down the interstate as if he had just robbed a bank. Aziraphale thought he was purposefully trying to get a rise out of him. However, he kept his mouth shut and his hands planted firmly under his legs to prevent gripping the dash out of sheer terror.

“You don’t like it?” Aziraphale asked, suddenly self-conscious of his wardrobe choice. Perhaps it was a bit too casual…

“It’s fine, It’s very modern. Not very you tho.” Crowley kept his eyes on the road, but Aziraphale desperately wanted them to shift in his direction. He had worn this outfit to show Crowley he was ready to move forward. Towards a future with no heaven, and a future with him. Apparently, the message was not getting received. Aziraphale didn’t mention the underhanded implication of Crowley’s statement in favor of keeping the mood light. He had a lot planned and the drive to the field was only a necessary part of it.

"Take a left here.” Aziraphale pointed to a small turnoff and Crowley squinted at the large green sign indicating that they had arrived at ‘ ** _Mrs. Pasilies Sunflower Field.’_**

“Odd place for dinner,” Crowley mumbled with a suspicious tone as he parked.

“Well, dear boy, I thought we could finally get on with that picnic!” Aziraphale said it with such a casual tone he was almost proud of himself. His heart was beating a million miles an hour. Unnecessarily, he might add. Crowley froze halfway out of the car. His glasses successfully masking any emotion that might have flitted across his face. It was only a short walk to the picnic spot, as Aziraphale didn’t want to ruin his or Crowley’s clothes walking through sunflower stocks. Which are surprisingly very sturdy.

Everything was exactly how Aziraphale had left it. The pristine blanket, the basket with the most delicious food that he could find. A beautiful red wine chilling on ice. The sunflowers were vibrant, tall and beautiful around them. Aziraphale felt pride swell in his chest as he turned around and motioned for Crowley to sit down with a hopeful look on his face.

Crowley on the other hand regarded the entire scene with a cautious disregard.

“Angel. Aziraphale. This is all… very out of character for you.” Crowley had a very carefully placed tone about him. A desperate attempt to be inoffensive as he lowered himself onto the blanket.

“Out of character to go for a picnic?” Aziraphale kept his voice light and friendly but on the inside he was worried. Had this been the wrong approach? Perhaps Crowley preferred something classier and posh and less… rustic.

“It just… Feels like the other shoe is about to drop is all.” Crowley poured two glasses of wine and handed one to Aziraphale who had positioned himself closer to Crowley than he normally made a habit of doing. In turn, Crowley seemed to absent-mindedly scoot a little further away. Aziraphale tried to smother the disappointment that sprung in his chest.

“Well,” he took a hearty sip of wine, “I only wanted to enjoy the company… of the person I enjoy most.”

Crowley’s breath hitched mid drink and he set the glass down quickly but said nothing, instead he pretended to be taken with the view of the sunflowers under the setting sun. And Aziraphale busied himself with the view of Crowley.

Goodness, how he longed to reach out to him. For so many years he wanted nothing more than to reach across whatever surface separated them and intertwine their hands. The light of the setting sun reflected off Crowley’s glasses in such a way where he could see the faint outline of his eyes, nervously darting between Aziraphale and the sunset. The purple on the skyline made his red hair seem like a fiery blaze. His lanky figure folded in upon itself in a way that looked so effortless, yet so incredibly intricate. His lips pursed in thought, his brows knitted together in concentration. He was an absolute sight.

“ _Crowley_...” Aziraphale whispered. Crowley’s face relaxed instantly as he heard the soft tone of his angel’s voice and he shifted to meet Aziraphale’s eyes The worried expression vanished from his face and a more bemused one took its place.

“Sorry, Angel. I’m just not used to this… the openness that we can have now.” A genuine display of vulnerability from Crowley was enough to lift Aziraphale’s hope once again. Maybe this would turn out okay.

“Perhaps you were correct. About another shoe dropping.” Aziraphale began tentatively.

“What do you mean?” Crowley tried to hedge the anxiety from his voice. Aziraphale took a steady breath and reached for Crowley’s hand. He stiffened immediately and Aziraphale waited for him to pull away. Instead, still fingers overcame their fear and wrapped themselves around his own soft hands. Aziraphale didn’t fight the smile that overcame him.

“Crowley, my dearest. I have been thinking lately-“

“ _Yeah_?” Crowley whispered weakly.

“About the nature of ‘us’.”

“Us…” Crowley’s hand relaxed and he leaned ever so closer towards the angel. If his sunglasses had not been on, Aziraphale might have noticed the way his eyes flicked down towards his lips and back up his face slowly. And if Crowley wasn’t so preoccupied with Aziraphale’s lips, he might have noticed the angel rustling around in his pocket.

“I think we owe it to ourselves… to find a space where we can explore that nature.” Aziraphale chooses his words extremely carefully, but Crowley was a magnetic field that Aziraphale had been revolving for six thousand years. That same force that pulled Crowley to the top of that wall all those years ago was the same force pulling the two occult beings closer and closer right now.

“ _Angel_ …” Crowley whispered. His voiced filled to the brim with longing. He was so close. So so close, that Aziraphale almost lost his nerve. His hand grasped the box tightly. The overwhelming temptation to lean forward and feel the demon pressed against him. His lips so effortlessly moving against his own…He allowed himself to imagine Crowley pressing him into the picnic blanket earnestly. His weight heavy against his own. Aziraphale felt a shiver travel down his spine. If this went well, they could ravish each other in this field for days for all he cared.

“That is why… Crowley… I think we should-“

Three things happened all at once. Aziraphale lifted the small box from it’s hiding place next to his leg. Secondly, Crowley’s eyes flicked from their transfixed position on Aziraphale’s mouth towards the box, and finally, Crowley’s eyes notably widened, and he pushed himself away before Aziraphale could even finish his formal request.

Before the angel could even question what had happened to their lovely moment, Crowley was going off.

“Are you out of your absolute mind, Aziraphale?” Crowley hissed in a low, almost demonic tone.

Aziraphale fumbled for words, he looked at the box, and back at Crowley, who had already settled into his next tirade before he could get any words out.

“Marriage? Marriage?! What the fuck, am I a joke to you? Six thousand years, Angel. Six. Thousand. Years. Where, might I add, not thirty of those years ago, you were constantly telling me to bottle my own feelings up! You are one to talk about going too fast, when not a month out of Armageddon you're asking for my hand in marriage like it’s nothing.”

Aziraphale’s mind was racing a mile a minute. He was wrong to want this? A romance with the love of his life? And who said anything about marriage? Aziraphale glanced down at the box in his hand and immediately set it down.

“I think you are quite mistaken, Crowley. “

“Oh, I’m mistaken, now am I? So, let me get this straight. You sidelined me for MILLENIA, you downplayed my feelings. And what is worse, you downplayed our friendship. So, you could be the perfect little angel. Meanwhile, you weren’t the perfect angel, were you? Consorting, tempting and what not. But I dealt with it because I loved you!”

“Loved?” Aziraphale asked softly, hurt that Crowley had used the past tense. Crowley was picking himself up off the blanket now. Leaving a very overwhelmed angel in his wake as Crowley began gathering his stuff.

“I should have known something was up, with the field and the picnic and everything else. You are always so sure I’m going to come back to you, Aziraphale. After six thousand years of being at your beck and call. And now that it’s convenient you throw together a picnic and expect me to enter _Holy Matrimony_ ,” Crowley spit the words like hellfire, “with you, and you don’t even have the nerve to admit you love me.”

“I do love you!” Aziraphale said, hastily trying to get Crowley to come back and sit down and listen to what he was going to say. While it was true. Aziraphale certainly loved Crowley. This was not the way he wanted to say it aloud for the first time. Crowley didn’t seem to hear. He grabbed his jacket off the ground.

“And by the way,” Crowley sneered, “Marriage is offensive to demons. How would you feel if I asked you to Fall to be with me?” Aziraphale shook his head. Where on Earth is Crowley pulling marriage from?

“Crowley, my love. _**Please**_ …I just wanted to-“

The tension rose. Sunflowers began leaning away from the arguing couple in their midst. Aziraphale had his hands out, pleading for Crowley to just hear him out. Crowley didn’t hear any of it. He was overcome with the idea of reciprocated love after millennia of keeping it hidden so carefully. All that energy… forcing himself not to feel certain things. Suddenly being released all at once in the most unexpected manner, it was destined to blow up in their face.

The two argued louder. Voices overlapping and swelling against one another. Hands gesturing. Accusations are thrown and pleadings growing louder.

_**“**_ _ **If you would just listen to me!"** _Aziraphale shouted.

“Oh, I’m listening. You wanted me to roll over for you now that it’s convenient for your feelings, Aziraphale. Keep in mind, I betrayed my side too. And not once did it keep me from loving you.”

Aziraphale stopped yelling. His chest heaved quickly with the adrenaline from the argument. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. His eyes focused on Crowley. Despite it all, he still looked breathtaking in the sunset. Crowley starred back, adrenaline also coursing through his veins. A standstill had been achieved at the crucible of the argument. Aziraphale whetted his lips to speak, but Crowley lifted his hand. A silent plead to not continue. Not right now.

“Have a nice retirement, Aziraphale.” Crowley mumbled before he stalked off, back in the direction of his Bentley and Aziraphale was left alone in that beautiful place. He felt his knees go out from under him as tears welled in his eyes. He heard a choked sob escape his throat as his hand came down to rest on the box. He picked it up gently before opening it.

There, nestled in the black satin of the box, was a key.

More specifically, the key to the cottage Aziraphale had purchased for them… the space for them to explore each other.

Aziraphale let his head fall into his hands as he wept well past sunset.

**Author's Note:**

> Going... going.... gone  
> Please leave a review! This will probably be like three chapters nothing huge


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